


Reunion I: Without a Word

by PieHeda



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Comfort Sex, F/F, Fingerfucking, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:42:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieHeda/pseuds/PieHeda
Summary: Written for the 2018 Annual Femslash Kink Meme. Prompt: Warehouse 13: HG/Myka, Reunion sex.





	Reunion I: Without a Word

**ZERO**

Myka’s heart fell, as if a cavern opened inside of her and swallowed it. HG was dating. HG was dating a man. HG was dating a man with a daughter, and she was part of their life, a life with no Warehouse, no endless wonder, and no Myka. 

She wanted to mention all those times HG spoke with disdain about men, cite them chapter and page number. 

She wanted to make excuses for not being exclusive with HG; and defensively in response to that impulse, she also wanted to remind HG that her appearances at the Warehouse were not predictable or frequent. 

She wanted to pin her and kiss her, claim her as her own, leave her mark on HG’s body inside and out so that she would know to whom she belonged, until she never wanted or needed anyone else. 

She felt somewhat justified that HG gave this man a false name, and a bit defiant when he learned her real identity. He would end this relationship now, of course, that he knew he’d been lied to. When he didn’t, Myka felt a little impressed at him, but mostly ashamed at how badly she wanted HG to get dumped. 

Before leaving, she thought of getting one last kiss. It would be a bold move. An HG move. Maybe she would admire that and come back with Myka… 

Myka said a heartfelt goodbye, _like an adult_ , she told herself. Her heart had returned from the pit just to ache in her chest for the entire journey home, where she stoically didn’t cry until she was alone in her room at the B&B. 

**ONE YEAR**

“Pete?” 

HG sounded both confused and a little disgusted.

Myka cringed, and felt disloyal to Pete for cringing. 

“Yes.” 

“Pete, as in _Pete_?”

“Yes.” 

“Pete _Lattimer?!?_ ”

“Of course. Who else would I mean?”

“Is this your revenge on me?” 

_Don’t be silly, I’m completely over you._

_Why, does it change things?_

_Yes; hurts, doesn’t it?_

_No… I don’t know._

“Helena, this is getting a little insulting.” 

“But Myka… PETE?!?”

“Oh, like Nate was any better…” 

“So it is revenge, then…” 

“God forbid my engagement be about me, or the man I love, or anyone but…”

She stopped, choked on her own words.

“Anyone but…?” HG said. Her voice was raw with hurt, but it didn’t edge out her determination. 

Tears streamed down Myka’s face. She tried to breathe, tried to regain control of her voice.

“Go on Myka, let’s hear it. Anyone but whom? Please, tell me how my astonishment that you would marry...” she paused, as if grasping for a colorful turn of phrase, “... _Pete_ , is actually all about me.”

“I don’t want to fight.” 

Something rustled against HG’s phone, like wind but lighter. It must be her hair, Myka realized. The gesture was familiar to Myka; HG, raking her hands through her hair in frustration. 

“Well in that case we’ll have to talk about something else.” 

“Helena, that’s not fair.”

“Then I suppose there’s nothing left to discuss.” 

Myka waited for a click to follow HG’s clipped, curt words. It would have been kind in a way, she realized. HG could have been solely responsible for this, but Myka wasn’t going to get off that easy. 

“I guess there isn’t,” Myka replied, her anger rising. 

She prepared to defend Pete, to defend her choices. The words she wished she’d had moments ago came to her rapidly.

“Fair enough,” HG said. 

The phone clicked.

Myka twitched and shook her fists, the very picture of pent up rage, fighting her impulse to throw the phone across the room.

Instead, she placed the betraying device on her desk and slumped back into her chair, pulling at her lip. 

Later, when Pete asked her if she’d called HG, she glared.

“So it went well,” he deadpanned. 

He leaned over her shoulder in the chair and wrapped his arms around her.

“Mail her an invite. Maybe she’ll change her mind.” 

Myka leaned into Pete’s embrace. On the list of things she loved about him the optimism ranked high, but she felt certain hope was gone in this case.

Her suspicions were ultimately confirmed. No RSVP, no phone calls or texts. No HG at her wedding. 

_How do you say goodbye to the one person who knows you better than anyone else?_ she wondered, as she walked down the aisle. 

Pete smiled boyishly when he saw the tears in her eyes. The feeling of disloyalty that had been a frequent companion lately swelled in her.

**THREE YEARS**

The agents gathered in Artie’s office after the paramedics took Mrs. Frederic’s body away from the B&B. Myka felt like the Warehouse needed them, and at the very least she agreed that she needed it. 

Artie looked at Claudia with concern as she joined them. “Did they finish…” 

“Yep. You’re looking at the new Caretaker.” She smirked half-heartedly. “And they’re training me to be your boss, as soon as you’re ready to give up your new director duties.” 

Myka smiled sadly, waiting for Artie to react with a quip. Instead, he just put his hand on Claudia’s. 

***

The turnout at the funeral numbered over a hundred. Myka scanned the faces around the graveside, wondering who most of them were. She realized she was searching for long, brown hair and shining dark eyes. 

Pete put his arm around her. She wondered if it was because of his grief, or if he’d gotten a vibe that betrayed her thoughts to him. 

**FOUR YEARS**

One day, Myka woke up to realize that she may as well be sleeping next to her brother. After almost three years of marriage, she found that she still loved his big heart, his courage and loyalty, and if not his dumb sense of humor, she at least loved that it was part of what made him Pete. 

But she was not in love with any part of him anymore. 

Worse: she knew he was still in love with her. 

She made it quick. It only took her a few days to gather the nerve, and the words that seemed right. She said she wanted him to be happy. She reminded him that he wanted things she didn’t; mainly, children. She told him she never wanted to hurt him.

She wasn’t surprised when he requested a leave of absence. 

She buried herself in the work. Jinks became her new partner, since Artie had less and less energy for field work while acting as director, and Caretaking while training for the director duties was a full time job for Claudia. 

The work felt great, better than it had in years. Jinks turned out to be the perfect partner; he avoided mentioning Pete without any awkwardness. He never assumed her work and her feelings were related. She knew he would talk to her if she wanted, but he never treated her like she should talk. In fact, with Jinks she could share long, comfortable silences. Together they happily worked hard and bagged each artifact with impressive efficiency. Claudia occasionally called them workaholics, but otherwise even she teased Myka less than she did everyone else lately. 

Myka had gone a month without Pete before she even thought of calling HG. She allowed herself a moment of pride that it took so long, then dismissed the urge and returned to her research. 

That night Myka pulled up HG’s number in her contacts, and stared at it for ten minutes before deciding to put the phone down. She didn’t connect pulling her vibrator out of the drawer with the desire to talk to HG. Still, as she rocked her hips against the device in her hand, a memory of HG reclining on her bed in black lingerie filled her head. She could still remember how HG smelled that evening. She remembered how HG’s teeth felt as she grazed Myka’s neck. She remembered HG’s hands on her wrist, and the heat between her own legs as HG teased her, giving her what she wanted only in small measures until Myka could barely take it anymore. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she came. 

She lay in bed sleepless afterwards, feeling lonely, but also angry that she couldn’t just enjoy a decent orgasm.

**FOUR AND A HALF YEARS**

Myka turned over in bed and watched Claudia breathe. The young Caretaker - Caretaker _and_ director, she corrected herself - seemed to be sleeping now. Good. Myka combed her fingers through Claudia’s red hair, and hoped she would be able to sleep soon, too. 

Artie’s death had been unexpected - a heart attack while he sat alone in his Warehouse office. 

Of course, Claudia found him. Knowing about any bad thing that happened within the Warehouse as soon as it happened came with the Caretaker job. He was in the ground for an entire month before Claudia came to Myka’s room for comfort which, she reflected, showed a great deal of resolve. 

It was also the first sex for Myka since Pete. It seemed to be what they both needed, although now she felt like once was enough, and she hoped Claudia would understand.

Myka thought about HG daily since Artie had died. She hadn’t shown up at that funeral either. Myka had thought the anger was completely gone, but it bloomed again, like a stubborn weed that refused to go away no matter how many times she plucked it. 

It occurred to her that something may be preventing HG from returning. Possibly an accident, or worse; she had been kidnapped before, after all. Her heart lurched. 

“She’s fine,” Claudia murmured. 

“What?” 

Claudia turned over and faced Myka. 

“You know the vibes? How Mrs. Frederic had those too? And the disappearing thing? Well, those little Warehouse magic tricks seem to be part of the features package with being the Caretaker. Only I guess we don’t all get the same package, because no on the vibes and vanishing act, but I can read minds now. Oh, and this?” she pointed back and forth between herself and Myka, “had nothing to do with my resolve. I haven’t wanted to feel anything since he died. Today, I suddenly wanted to feel everything. Pretty much gave into it as soon as the desire was there, no struggle.”

Claudia rolled her eyes and tapped the side of her head. 

“Wetware, right? No logical architecture whatsoever, just neurotransmitters firing feelings at us. The mind-reading thing did make the sex REALLY good, though.”

Myka’s face went blank. 

“You can read minds for how long now?” 

“Oh. As long as I’ve been a Caretaker. It only works on Warehouse peeps. And don’t worry, it’s on snooze most of the time. It’s like hacking ethics; could I use the camera and GPS on your phone to check in on you whenever I feel like it? Yes. But I don’t, because: privacy. I think right now, after sex - which you’re totally right about, this was a one and done thing - I’m maybe a bit too wired into your mainframe to shut it off. Don’t know, never done it with another Warehouse person before. Normally it takes all the effort of not opening someone’s laptop to stay out of someone’s head, but right now your thoughts are a show you’re streaming at top volume, without your earbuds in. I’m sure it’ll wear off after a while. Probably. Anyway, I can also kind of feel how everyone who is connected to the Warehouse is doing. I’m sort of networked to them. It’s not constant but I can run an analysis for updates. I get alerts if anything is wrong, or just different. I know Pete is coming back soon. The funeral made up his mind and he’s just getting some stuff in order first.”

Myka stared at Claudia. The younger woman’s eyes looked tired, but clear.

“So when you say she’s fine…” 

“There’s nothing wrong with HG,” Claudia said. “Nothing bad has happened to her. In fact, because she’s carrying around knowledge of two Warehouses, there’s pretty much always a Regent checking on her, so she’s extra safe.” 

Myka chewed her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know why she hasn’t called or visited,” Claudia said. 

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

“I wanted to say it anyway. I miss her too.” 

Myka could handle it if Claudia needed her to carry on and do her job. She could go to bed with her, and then compartmentalize it and never get wet watching her mouth during a debriefing or get lost in the memory of how she tasted over breakfast at the B&B. 

She could be as professional as anyone needed her to be, but Claudia’s empathy broke her. Myka let herself cry for the first time since Artie died. 

“We’ve lost so many people. I hate knowing she’s out there - she’s still _there_ \- but we’ve lost her too.”

“I know, Myka.”

Claudia pulled her close and kissed her head. They lay together until Myka was done, and then stayed there quietly for a while, sharing the comfort of the dark.

“I mean for one thing, if she were here?” Claudia said, eventually, “this could have been a threesome. Yow.” 

Myka laughed in spite of herself, and she and the young Caretaker kissed like lovers one last time. 

***

Pete returned just as Claudia forecast, with a new agent and fiancee - Kate Logan, a previous work partner and girlfriend of his. 

Myka felt like he was being too impulsive, and had run to Kate out of desperation. And then, she didn’t. The two were good together. Kate shared his goofy sense of humor, she could balance work and play with Pete. She didn’t seem like she was tolerating him, as Myka so often felt herself doing. Kate didn’t just love Pete, she also liked him. She was happy for them.

**SIX YEARS**

Myka found that turning 40 wasn’t worth the existential dread that most women put into it, but it did come with a change of attitude she hadn’t expected. With Claudia fully in charge of the Warehouse, the dress code had relaxed. At first, Myka scaled back to wearing athletic shoes, but kept her blazers and button-ups. It made all the running easier. It wasn’t hard to prioritize her knees and arches over professional appearances.

After 40, she opted for comfortable jeans and t-shirts, or soft plaid flannels when the weather turned cold. She only wore anything resembling a suit if her intention was to intimidate business men. Sometimes, she specifically dressed in her comfortable clothes just to piss those same men off. It was satisfying, no longer feeling like she had to play dress-up for the powers that be.

She also stopped worrying about HG. She thought about her still, but she was more inclined to remember their happy moments. They felt more fleeting now; time gave her the insight to see that their happiness had existed in slivers between work and tragedy. They had never been a constant thing. They had done a poor job of prioritizing each other, and their relationship had gone the way that relationships will under those circumstances. She could appreciate the passion they shared while clearly seeing why it hadn’t been enough.

She began dating again, and discovered that she liked that - just dating, not trying to settle down. She liked her life, liked that it made sense. She would work at the Warehouse forever, probably. Claudia wanted her to be the new Artie, which seemed like a better fit now than it would have a few years ago. This was her home and her family. Being married to the job didn’t carry the frightening connotations it had when she was 30. 

**TEN YEARS**

“Pete! Aisle ten, go go go!” 

Pete dashed off through the big box hardware store. 

It was a thrill doing field work with him again. Kate was due to give birth to their second child any day now, and Jinks was busy with a big research project for Claudia, so Myka had taken over field duties with Pete. They weren’t a logical, efficient pair like she and Jinks were, but Pete’s gut-feeling style was exactly what made work with him an adventure.

She ducked down to crawl along the bottom shelf so she could see the next aisle, and stayed hidden there, keeping her eye out for Pete’s feet. If it went according to plan, he’d lure the artifact-whammied victim over to her, and she would Tesla him from her hiding spot. 

Her stomach sank as she saw the feet of someone-not-Pete strolling down the aisle. 

“Ma’am! Get down!” she hissed from under the shelves. 

The woman paused right next to her, but didn’t move. 

“Lady! I said get down!” 

The woman gave no sign that she could hear her. Myka heard the hum of a Tesla close by, and looked at the weapon in her hand. She hadn’t switched it on accidentally.

The woman next to her dropped her hand to her side in a trained gesture that obscured the gun from plain view. It wasn’t like Myka’s Tesla, although she recognized it instantly. She tried to speak, but her mouth had gone dry. 

The crackle of the Tesla firing split the air, and the man they’d been pursuing fell to the ground a few feet away. 

“No way…” she heard Pete say. 

Myka crawled awkwardly out from under the shelf and stood in front of her. 

HG didn’t show many signs of age, with the exception of a thin white streak that ran from her left temple. It looked good in her dark hair, far more elegant than the wiry silver salted sparsely throughout Myka’s own hair now. Myka was glad to see that her smile still lit up her face and made her dark eyes twinkle. 

“Oh Myka,” HG said. “It is you. You’re really here.”

Myka wrapped her arms around HG and held her tight. A billion questions filled her head, a billion things she’d wanted to know for all these years apart. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Myka said. 

“I’ve missed you too,” HG replied, and released what seemed to Myka like a sigh of relief.

When she finally let go, they beamed at each other for just a moment before the words came. 

“Do you live here? What have you been doing?” 

“Look at this shirt! So handsome, like when you worked at the bookshop!” 

“Are you busy? Do you want to get a drink?” 

“Aren’t _you_ busy?” HG said, and nodded towards Pete. 

He kneeled next to the guy they’d been pursuing, doing his best to explain away the effects of the artifact over their loud reunion. 

Myka opened her mouth to apologize, but Pete smiled and waved her away. 

“Go on, you two crazy kids catch up. I got it bagged, everything’s good here.” 

***

“So how long since the two of you separated?” 

“How could you tell?”

HG pursed her lips and the corners of her mouth quirked up into a smile. Myka grinned; she was pleased that HG still savored the opportunity to show off.

“No ring,” she said, pointing at Myka’s left hand, “although Pete was wearing one. You must tell me about that, since he’s clearly remarried. Although really I knew you’d divorced from the moment he saw me.” 

“And why was that?” 

“Because he didn’t look intimidated,” HG said with a wink. 

Myka acknowledged the flirtation with a smile. “What are you doing now?” 

“Actually, writing again. Somewhat successfully, in fact.” 

She told Myka her pen name. 

“Oh! I’ve read you, you’re really good! I mean…” Myka smiled and shook her head. “OK, yeah, I already knew that. Can you imagine what your publisher would think if they knew?”

“Indeed. Only those who work with the Warehouse truly know who I am.” HG smiled sadly. “One of the things I miss about it.” 

Myka watched HG. She considered this fork in the conversation. If she dodged this path now, she’d have to come back to it eventually. She took a sip of her whiskey.

“Why did you leave?”

HG furrowed her brow. Myka prepared herself for a defensive reaction. 

HG scanned the room, and then finally met Myka’s gaze. 

“I hadn’t intended to have this conversation in a hotel bar,” she said. 

“Of course,” Myka nodded. “Come on, bring your drink with you.”

Myka downed the rest of her drink and left cash for the bartender, then led the way to the elevator. 

***

In her hotel room, Myka sat at the edge of the bed and watched as HG paced slowly in front of the window, sipping at her brandy. 

“Did Artie tell you that I died?” she said finally, staring out of the window. 

“When was this?” 

“Sykes,” HG said. “Before Artie used the Astrolabe, when Sykes blew up the Warehouse. I died. Sacrificed myself for the other agents, Artie said. When he told me, I knew there was only one explanation for this.” 

She turned to look at Myka. 

“The only reason I would sacrifice myself for others is if it would save you.” 

“But what I’m hearing you say is you also saved Pete and Artie.” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that difficult, saving them as well. Certainly it would have won me favor with you, elevated my place in your memory. I’d get to die a noble hero.” She quirked an eyebrow up and smiled roguishly. 

“I don’t understand why this made you leave.” 

“Because it terrified me. If I would die for you, in a job as dangerous as the Warehouse? If I already had died for you? Surely I would do it again. I’ve cheated death a number of times, I can’t keep it up forever. The odds don’t support it. It made me feel like I was giving up too much of myself, if I would give up my life for another person.”

Myka nodded at the floor. In the first year when she’d obsessively wondered why things went wrong, a threat to HG’s freedom had been among her theories.

“I ran away from it. I tried everything I could to assert my independence. I tried out a number of jobs, chasing my interests. I took so many lovers, tried the novelty of domestic life, as you know. None of it changed things. It caught up to me eventually, no matter what I tried.” 

She drained the brandy glass, and set it down. 

“Since I left the Warehouse, my greatest regret has been that I gave up the only person, with the exception of my daughter, that I’ve ever loved enough to die for.” 

Myka crossed the room without deciding to. She was there as if driven by the same raw instinct that would make her jerk her hand away from a hot stove, only instead she was touching HG’s hair, holding her face, drawing her in. 

“Will you say it again?” she said, her lips so close to HG’s that she could feel her own breath radiate back at her. 

“I love you, Myka, and I would die for you.” 

Myka shook her head. “That isn’t a thing I need. I want you to live for me.” 

HG exhaled, and it relaxed her, sank her deeper into Myka’s embrace. 

“I want to. I will. I love you, Myka.” 

Myka took HG’s lips in hers.

“I want you in my life, Helena. I want to make time for each other this time.”

“I want to be back at the Warehouse with you. I want to be known again. I love you.” 

HG initiated the next kiss. Myka felt a thrill at recognizing one of HG’s old patterns; how she sucked Myka’s lip, slowly, savoring it, and then opened her mouth to her. Myka’s fingers went to her own shirt collar automatically, like she was performing her part of a familiar dance. HG’s eyes met Myka’s; they sparkled with excitement. 

“I love you,” HG whispered in her ear, and kissed her way down just behind Myka’s fingers as she unbuttoned her shirt. She repeated the words onto Myka’s neck and collarbone. Myka unbuckled her belt, awkwardly pushed her shoes off using only her feet, stepped out of her jeans. HG pushed her to the bed, discarding Myka’s shirt and bra, and said the words between her breasts, onto the peak of her nipple, and into her mouth. 

Myka was certain she heard HG mutter it into her sex moments before spreading her with her tongue. 

Myka remembered how eager, even aggressive HG had been when they were younger. Now she made love to Myka slowly, deliberately taking her time. Myka crawled further up on the bed, beckoning HG to follow her, so that she could rest on the pillows and watch her lover go down on her. 

HG lapped at her with long strokes from her opening to her clit. She sucked her outer labia into her mouth, kissed and nipped her inner thighs, and licked her again. Her hands explored Myka’s hips and her belly. 

Myka combed her fingertips through HG’s hair. She realized other experiences, other lovers had slowed HG’s pace, and that she didn’t mind. It was delightful that HG had returned to her changed in this way, and that perhaps she alone got to know both sides of her. 

She was getting close, and HG could feel it. She focused in tighter on Myka’s clit. She started and stopped teasingly, and each pause made the sensation more intense when she continued. HG reached up for Myka’s breast, ghosting her fingers around her nipple. She hadn’t forgotten a thing, still knew exactly how to make Myka come, even if her pace had changed. 

Myka’s voice pitched higher and higher, and finally HG gave her everything she needed, sucking and licking her clit, pinching and rolling her nipple, and Myka bucked into HG’s mouth as she cried out. She was glad they were here, behind thick hotel walls, so she could fully let go with HG for the first time in so many years. 

HG crawled up her body and sucked her nipples, muttering “I love you” still as she moved between her breasts. She slid her fingers into Myka, dipping into her and then spreading her wetness over her clit. Myka grabbed a fistful of HG’s hair, and came again. 

HG went down on her again, grasping her hips, reminding Myka of being with her under very different circumstances - struggling to be quiet back at the B&B years ago, biting her own fist as HG grasped her this same way and thrust into her while wearing a strap on. She remembered the need in HG’s eyes, wanting HG to need her like that always…

Myka’s body spasmed and jerked beyond any control as the orgasm thundered over her. She reached for HG’s hand and held it tight, feeling as if only this tethered her. 

HG licked her until she started to come down. She crawled up Myka’s body, pausing to kiss her breasts before settling into her arms; another familiar move. 

Myka released her grip on HG’s hand and sat up, holding HG by the waist. HG had removed her pants at some point while going down on Myka, which simplified things. She got the gist of where things were going and straddled Myka’s lap.

Myka wanted to unbutton her shirt. She wanted to kiss her through her bra, to tease her and make love to her as slowly and attentively as HG had just done for her. 

Then she felt HG’s cunt, hot and wet on her thigh. HG smiled wickedly and rocked on her leg. 

Myka slid two fingers into HG. 

HG parted her lips and writhed, making a show of it as she rode Myka’s hand. Rather successfully, Myka noted, because it made her grab at HG’s hip, her thigh, grasping wherever she could get a handhold to take control of her woman. HG relented, and Myka pulled her into her thrusts, slowing her pace. 

HG stripped off her own shirt and bra, and pressed Myka to her chest. Her skin was as soft as ever. She kissed and nipped wherever her lips made contact with HG’s flesh, until she connected with her nipple and sucked it into her mouth. HG responded with a whispered “yes darling”, and Myka sought her other nipple with her free hand while she slow-fucked her. 

Myka could feel HG’s voice through her chest, in her own mouth. As HG softened and became more yielding, Myka added a third and then a fourth finger, and HG’s moans grew louder. HG held her tight, and it felt like home, enclosed in HG’s embrace, her hand almost entirely inside of her, her voice vibrating through Myka. 

HG gasped for air as her moans became shouts, and cried Myka’s name as she came. 

***

They stayed in bed and talked, wrapped around each other under the sheets, while the sunlight crept across the room. Myka was glad this was a high floor with a view of nothing but sky from the bed, because neither one of them gave a thought to the open curtains in the heat of the moment.

HG revealed that she didn’t live in or even near this town. 

“Really? What were you doing at a hardware store?” 

“Following pings. I’ve been chasing curiosities for months, hoping to find you again.” 

“But you could have called. You know where the Warehouse and the B&B are; you could have just dropped by.” 

HG slid her hand into Myka’s. 

“I wanted to see how you reacted, without expecting me. Then if you didn’t want to see me, I’d know, and I could just let you be.”

“You think if you showed up at the B&B I wouldn’t just tell you to go, if I wanted to?” 

“Yes, I thought you might. Especially after how much I missed.” 

HG trembled. Her face reminded Myka of Pete’s daughter, when she wanted confirmation that she wasn’t in trouble before admitting to doing something wrong. 

“I don’t want to make excuses. I was in London when Mrs. Frederic died, but I should have called, I should have done something. I drove halfway to the Warehouse when I heard about Artie, and then I lost my nerve. I wasn’t part of the Warehouse anymore, it seemed wrong to make you - and Pete, and everyone really - deal with me. I know…” 

She shook her head, and wiped at the tears forming in her eyes.

“I know how I am, Myka. I know I can be a bit of a prima donna, that I take up too much space in the conversation. I didn’t want it to be about me. I knew it was wrong, and I didn’t know what the right thing would be.” 

Myka felt the words “it’s alright” forming in her mouth and fought the urge to say it, and realized she might not say how she felt, if HG had just shown up. She might feel tempted to tell her what she wanted to hear. Being in HG’s arms now and the years of resentment at her absence pulled at her, but not quite in opposite directions anymore. 

“I’ve been a coward, Myka.” 

“You’re not a coward. I can think of dozens of brave things you’ve done. Running towards danger, talking your way out of sticky situations, testing your own inventions.” 

“All that’s easy enough. Facing your disapproval is another thing entirely.” 

Myka looked into her eyes. HG looked desperate. 

Of course. She’d asked her to say it, and HG had tattooed the words across her body with her mouth, but Myka still hadn’t said it back. 

“HG, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I did miss you, intensely, when you didn’t come back for Mrs. Frederic and Artie - and I wouldn’t have missed you like that if I didn’t love you.” 

She climbed on top of HG, held her down, their naked bodies together. 

“You are a prima donna. You do take up a lot of space. You’re a daredevil, and you get bored and restless too easily. And this? Admitting you actually did something wrong? Makes you extremely uncomfortable.”

Myka smiled, and shrugged. 

“And I love you. You’ve worried me and made me angry and hurt me, you’ve very nearly destroyed the world. I know exactly who you are at your best and worst, and I love you.”

She rolled them over so that HG was on top of her. Myka opened her legs. She could feel HG’s sex resting against hers, but made no move to push things further. 

HG took Myka’s arms and pinned her hands, without force, above her head.

“Myka Bering, I don’t believe I have ever wanted anything or anyone the way I want you right now.” 

***

Myka sat up and stretched, sore from all the hours in bed. The curtains were still open and the sun had gone down, but she had no concept of how late in the evening it was. Her stomach rumbled. She put on her glasses and picked up her phone - not too late to order some food. She began searching through local options. 

Her phone buzzed with a text alert; Claudia. 

Myka smiled. She knew what the text would say. First things first.

“Helena? I’m getting some donuts delivered, do you want any? I found a late night place.”

**Author's Note:**

> So about that title: 
> 
> After seeing Jaime and Joanne at DragonCon this year, I'm having some serious Warehouse nostalgia, and this prompt left me wanting more. I don't know how soon; there's a lot of change in my life right now. But I've got more ideas on this theme. ;)


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